featured poet

The Book Bag: Poetic Voices – April 2026

Welcome to April’s Poetic Voice. Yes April! You won’t find any fools here though. You will find this month’s incredible poet.

I first encountered them on social media, responding to the same prompts as me. I was impressed by their language and their subject matter. It was at a couple of open mics I first heard their moth poems…

And this month’s feature is jam-packed. Not only do we have a selection of poems including pieces from their new pamphlet releasing in April but also an interview…

Without further ado, this month’s Poetic Voice is Eleanor Holmes.



Eleanor Holmes (previously writing as Eliot North) is a neurodivergent mother-doctor-writer of prose, poetry and hybrid. Originally from Bristol in the UK, she has spent her life exploring different cultures and countries, loves to collaborate with other creatives and has a life-long obsession with illustration, printmaking and beautiful handmade books. She lives with her son and husband in Valencian Country, Spain, and works as an NHS GP in Weston-super-mare. Widely published in print and on-line, she was commended in the National Poetry Competition 2014 and shortlisted for the Bridport Poetry Prize 2025. #Moth is her first hybrid collection.

For the first part of the feature, we have a piece from #Moth, which can be ordered from Ethel Zine here. The books are handmade and have an incredible quality to them as you can see from some of the images below. A massive round of applause for Ethel for the amount of effort they make in their publications.

Eleanor has also treated us to a recording of ‘Trap’, one of the poems from the collection which is accompanied by harp. Listen here.

This brings me to Eleanor’s first poem. Imperial. This is one of my favourites from the collection for its multi-sensory feel.

A Few Questions and Answers from Eleanor on her Writing Process

PS: Eleanor, what was the inspiration for #Moth?

EH: #Moth started life in a Tania Hershman workshop ‘Hybrid Writing: Unbox Your Words’ back in 2021. The whole course was focused on ‘hybridity’ in terms of theme as well as form.

Tania had us coming up with all sorts of ‘Chimera-like’ ideas, using scientific text exploring genetics and chimerism as inspiration, as well as myth and imagination. The idea for my main character ‘Vadoma’, a moth-woman hybrid, came from this start. Many of the poems in #Moth weave the natural history of moths with the personal narrative of my main character, with a sprinkling of magic realism.

Tania’s hybrid writing technique or ‘mash-up’ approach to different writing styles resonated with me. Taking scientific texts, adverts, images, shopping lists, fairytales, procedurals, forms (anything goes) and mash it, cut it up, splice it with something else entirely. I don’t like to be pigeon holed, in life and in my writing, and this approach made sense to my neurodivergent brain.

I’ve been both fascinated, and equally dismayed, by the language of medicine over the years. When I studied psychiatry as a student, terms like ‘word salad’, ‘knights move thinking’ and ‘flight of ideas’ that are used to describe formal thought disorder really got my brain humming. The idea of ‘punning and rhyming’, ‘pressure of speech’, use of ‘neologisms’ being a sign of mania or psychosis, and that looking for these formed part of the traditional Mental State Examination (MSE), really intrigued me as I thought to myself: these are all things I have experienced to some extent, they form the basis of so much creativity, performance, poetry particularly.

In saying this I don’t wish to minimise the impact of serious mental illness. I believe good psychiatric care and mental health service provision saves lives. It is more an observation that in medicine the ‘them and us’ narrative serves no one.

In writing #Moth I aimed to take the language of medicine apart; examine it and twist it to shine new light on it. I wanted to explore: ‘what is normal’ and examine the power imbalance inherent in the way medicine operates, and then I wanted to try and flip the narrative. Tania’s course provided me with both the inspiration and the hybrid writing techniques to start this process.

PS: What does your writing process typically look like?

EH: I call myself a ‘magpie writer,’ my brain is constantly looking for the next shiny thing to latch on to. Scraps of speech, my son and I walking to school is a fabulous source of material just now: a six-year-old’s imagination knows no bounds and veers between the delightfully surreal and completely matter of fact.

This chatter with my son and observing my surroundings, little things glimpsed in the everyday, like a cormorant gliding by on my walk home, or a pearlescent piece of shell on a beach keeps my creative brain buzzing. Living in Valencian Country in Spain, where my husband is from and my son was born, is a gift for a writer noticing the ‘unusual’ in my surroundings, immersed in a different culture, language and landscape. This combined with the endless mine of creative material that is my memory, especially of childhood, means the ideas never stop coming. Pinning them down, crafting them, that’s the tricky part.

I make notes on my phone when I’m walking, or when I get home, or before I go to sleep. I collect scraps of things and then try and make sense of them as a whole, stitching words together, moulding them into something new. There never is a ‘this is a poem’ or ‘prose piece’ in the way I approach writing these days, it tends to just come out like a block of text or stream of consciousness. Form, or thinking about form, tends to come later in the process, when I’m trying to make sense of what material I’ve got. That said, I wrote a sestina recently in a Kim Moore and Clare Shaw workshop, and it led me somewhere unexpected which was fun.

I’ve always been an outsider, as a child I was pretty much mute and always observing. I learned to mask this, to function ‘better’ in a world that expected more from me. In medicine I was definitely an outsider as well, but I found my tribe of other ‘odd ball’ creative medics along the way. It is only in perimenopause, and as a woman who gave birth later in life, that I’ve realised how much of the way my brain works and my inherent need to create, is linked to my own neurodivergent thinking.

PS: Your background is in medicine which requires a use of clinical language, how do you arrange the precise clinical language versus the poetical in your mind when crafting your work?

EH: This is a really interesting question, because often I don’t think my clinical language is precise. It clearly is in some ways, has to be, in that there is an expected way that clinicians communicate with each other and diagnosis at its core is based on communication and taking a ‘history’.

The whole language of western medicine, the historical context and assumptions, all the inherent problems I just discussed above are stitched into the way we communicate as clinicians. We learn this language from day one at medical school, and I’ve often said as a medical educator, through this process we almost teach students to become worse communicators as a result. A situation that then means you can spend your whole career attempting to undo that learned reductive way of thinking and speaking (or not, depending on the clinician!)

Now as an adult, living in a country where my mother tongue of English is not the spoken language of the day to day, I am learning first-hand how hard this is to navigate. The jumble in my brain is often utterly exhausting and many times my ability to communicate totally falls apart. Add to this my husband’s mother tongue is Valencian (Catalan) and I’m trying to learn Castilian (Spanish) at the same time, then all sorts of scales have fallen from my eyes, particularly about the privilege attached to being a white, native English speaker (but also the lack that being monolingual inherently represents.)

For me language, and so poetry, is playful. In my communication with patients as a GP, I have to actively check my use of ‘medical language’ or jargon when I’m speaking to people, these days mostly on the phone working remotely from Spain. This isn’t that hard to do these days; I find communicating with patients a real joy when I can match or mirror language used and explore shared experience and common ground. Creating connection and trust is one of the most, if not the most, important thing in my medical practice. Without it, I wouldn’t be able to achieve anything as a doctor, well nothing positive anyway.

So, to actually answer your question, I don’t think my clinical language is precise, or that my poetic language is not precise. In some ways maybe it’s the reverse? The two are inseparable. I find the poetic in medicine, because people are messy and endlessly surprising. Poetry is precise, condensed, intentional; much more so in some ways than my clinical language which has become like driving a car, or shorthand. Creative writing for me breathes life into my learned medical language, it allows me to play with it, see the possibilities outside the clinical, then hone and hone and hone to become something else entirely.

Words matter way more than we are given to believe at medical school. Poetry, amongst other things, has helped me to see this more clearly.

PS: What piece of advice would you give to poets?

EH: I would say don’t be too hung up on writing ‘poetry’, just write. That first outpouring on the page, and the flow state I find with creating anything, is such an absolute pleasure and catharsis for my busy brain. It doesn’t have to go further than this, but also it can!

There are many ways to approach poetry and creative writing, and there is as with any creative process, a craft to be learned. My advice, as so many have said before, is read, and read a lot! Read for pleasure but also start to take note and pull apart what someone is doing when you really connect with their work. This has helped me enormously to start to pay attention to what a writer is doing in a text and then thinking ‘how did they achieve this?’

For me attending lots of workshops with great writers I admire has helped loads and broadened my reading and introduced me to new writers and creatives. This doesn’t need to cost a lot, and on-line works really well for me in terms of flexibility around family life (see January Writing Hour with Clare Shaw and Kim Moore.)

Connecting to poetry communities on social media like #poemsabout and #promptcombo on Bluesky and @TopTweetTuesday on X is also a great way to write more and receive feedback.

Reading your work aloud at open mics (see Paul’s excellent Book Bag open mic), connecting with other writers and building a trusted group of fellow creatives you can share your work with, and expect and give honest and supportive feedback to, has been essential for my development as a writer.

This and approaching established writers whose work you love for mentorship – big shoutout to Carole Bromley and Rebecca Goss – who have both helped my craft and confidence enormously in the last year.

PS: Finally, after reading #Moth, who else should people be checking out?

EH: If you like the hybrid nature of this book, then Tania Hershman is ‘The Queen of Hybrid’ and her latest book ‘Time: a Cronomemoir’ is out with Guillemot Press. The serialised audio of this on Tania’s Substack is ace, as well as her back catalogue of work on her website. Tania is a huge inspiration and a really fab workshop facilitator as well. https://taniahershman.com

I have become a bit of a fan girl of Nina Mingya Powles. How her writing spans all forms and genres and embraces hybrid. I would start with her marvellous ‘non-fiction’ essay writing. Being a foodie, I especially loved ‘Tiny Moons’ with The Emma Press, as well as her latest collection of poetry ‘In The Hollow of The Wave’ with Nine Arches Press. Her blog Crispy Noodles is ace and always makes me marvel at her writing as well as making me hungry. https://ninamingya.substack.com

I love any writer who embraces play and was alerted to Jon Stone and the concept of ‘Ludokinetic Poetry’ when he wrote a Poetry Society piece for National Poetry Day on a poem I wrote years ago called ‘The Crab Man.’ Jon’s website is a rabbit hole of invention that I could happily spend hours exploring. https://www.gojonstonego.com

Definitely check out Elizabeth Osmond‘s forthcoming debut poetry collection ‘Hatchery’ coming out with ‘V. Press’ late this year: a magical weaving of Beth’s neonatology consultant background, the history of this medical discipline, as well as the realities, joys and heartbreak of working in care and the NHS. This is a poetry pamphlet not to be missed! @bethosmond.bsky.social

For sheer artistic brilliance check out Sarah Raybould whose work spans filmpoetry, musical composition, performance, spoken word, visual art, dance and hybridity of all kinds. Sarah’s latest filmpoetry compositions with ‘IceFloe Press’ and ‘Ink, Sweat & Tears’ are stunning. She will also feature in Black Bough’s Silver Branch Series soon, so don’t miss that. @raybould_drs on X

I could go on, there are so many fab writers out there on social media, on-line and in print publishing, as well a whole host of fabulous independent presses, of which Ethel Zine is one that I particularly admire. Those writers mentioned above are all quite different, and a mere toe-dip into the pool of poetic creativity I see around me.

The next poem lands on 11th April. Another of my favourites from #Moth. Remember to bookmark this post.

If you’d like to attend the #Moth online launch, click here for full details and to grab your free ticket.

In the meantime, stay poetic.
Paul

The Book Bag: Poetic Voices – March 2026

It’s March already. Spring approaches with pace, clocks are changing this month and I fell like time is something we can’t grasp both figuratively or metaphorically.

As we slide gently into the (hopefully) warmer months, it’s my pleasure to bring you another Poetic Voice.

I first encountered this poet on social media and was startled at the beauty and elegance of language used in poems that always include multiple layers and deep emotional connection with readers. I feel very lucky to be able to share original work from this tremendously talented writer.

So without further ado, let me introduce March’s featured poet….Vikki C.

Vikki C. is a London-born poet, essayist and musician whose poetry, fiction and non-fiction appears in over 90 publications worldwide. She has been nominated for The Pushcart Prize, Best of the Net, and the Orison Best Spiritual Literature Award and was shortlisted in The Bridport Prize and other international literary contests. Recent and forthcoming venues include Grain Magazine, The Ilanot Review, EcoTheo Review, The Inflectionist Review, The Blue Mountain Review, Up the Staircase Quarterly, Psaltery & Lyre, Heavy Feather Review, Action, Spectacle, TIMBER, Skylight 47, Pinhole Poetry, Jarnal (Mason Jar Press), Ballerini Book Press, Astrolabe, Same Faces Collective, Bacopa Literary Review, Sweet Literary, Harpy Hybrid, Ballast, Emerge Literary Journal, Stone Circle Review, ONE ART Poetry, Feral, Salò Press, The Amethyst Review, Ice Floe Press, Black Bough Poetry, Cable Street, and Sunday Mornings at the River, among others. 

She is the author of the hybrid collaboration In The Blueprint of Her Iris (Ice Floe Press, 2025), the full-length collection Where Sands Run Finest (DarkWinter Press, 2024), the chapbook The Art of Glass Houses (Alien Buddha Press, 2022), and the micro-chapbook Dusklight Through The Dogwood Bower (Origami Poems, 2023). A winner of the Black Bough Poetry Collection Contest 2024, she has a book forthcoming with the press, and was also a Black Bough Silver Branch featured poet in June 2025. A longtime interdisciplinary artist, her writing, voice and music have featured on audio collaborations and podcasts. She serves as a contributing editor at The Winged Moon Magazine and guest edited the Ice Floe Press hybrid series ‘Process-Marginalia-Otherworlds’. 

You can keep upto date with Vikki’s work using the following;

Linktree: linktr.ee/vikki_c._author

Social Media: 
X: VWC_Writes
Instagram: vikkic.author 
Bluesky: vikkicwrites.bsky.social
Soundcloud: Vikki C. Music

Buy Vikki’s books using the links below:  

In the Blueprint of Her Iris (Ice Floe Press, 2025)
Where Sands Run Finest (DarkWinter Press, 2024)
The Art of Glass Houses (Alien Buddha Press, 2022)
Dusklight Through The Dogwood Bower (Origami Poems, 2023)

I am extremely grateful to be sharing a few poems of Vikki’s over the next month. It’s always a privelige when poets trust me to share work. For Vikki’s first poem, I have selected the incredible piece, ‘Morningfall’.

If you missed the news on Social Media last week, you may be unaware that Vikki’s poem ‘Morningfall’ was nominated by me for the Forward Prize.

Today, I’m sharing Vikki’s 2nd poem, Again, Ithaca. This is a poem rich in language, physicality and metaphor.

I can’t believe how fast this month is flying by. Here we are on World Poetry Day. This is Vikki’s final piece for her Poetic Feature. I’d strongly recommend you read more of her work. Check out her links above. Anyway, for World Poetry Day, this is ‘There’s the idea of prayer and the idea of us’. Again, tremendous use of metphor.

I hope you’ve enjoyed Vikki C’s feature which includes her Forward-nominated ‘Morningfall’.

Until next time, enjoy poetry, celebrate poets. It’s what the world needs…

Paul

The Book Bag: Poetic Voices – February 2026

Welcome to the first poetic voice of 2026. February is a special month as I celebrate my birthday AND i get to share work from an incredible poet and man.

I first encountered this Poetic Voice sharing his work on the weekly PoemsAbout prompts supplied Broken Spine on Bluesky, finding his poetry smart and accessible and full of wonderful phrasing and incredible language. Then I heard him read at an Open Mic and I was blown away with his performance, he performs with an vigour and gravitas and if you get the chance to hear him read his work, do take it – he often shares his recordings on social media. I’ve been fortunate enough to strike up a real connection with him.

So with further ado, allow me to introduce the excellent Paul Connolly. Find him on Bluesky at @thepaulconnolly.bsky.social.

Paul Connolly has written verse all his life but turned more serious attention to it about fifteen years ago, having set aside his Orwell Prize-longlisted satirical blog. Since then he has had well over 100 poems published in poetry magazines and online periodicals across the globe. He was third in the Magna Carta Poetry Competition, highly commended in the Sentinel Prize, and has a Charles Causley Prize shortlisting and two for the Bridport Prize (as well as a Bridport longlisting in the novel category). Last year, he was among the finalists for the Walking at Night writing prize and received a Best of the Net nomination. He is now seeking a publisher for his first poetry collection and his two novels.

Across the month I will be showcasing a bumper four poems from Paul, starting with two today that showcase Paul’s range.

This is ‘Late Summer Walk’.

Poem 2 is titled ‘Graduation’.

I am always grateful to showcase writers with range. Here we see a piece steeped in urban reality.

Paul’s final poem is called ‘Now’ and is a terrific example of combining the poetic with the real. An excellent piece to bookend the work shared this month.

I’d like to say a big thank you to Paul for sharing these excellent pieces over February and feel honoured to showcase some unpublished pieces.

Stay Poetic,
Paul

The Book Bag: Poetic Voices – October 2025

Can someone tell me how it is October already. Autumn colours arrived early this year and it seems like the nights are drawing in quicker each day. And with a new month, comes a new Poetic Voice to feature as part of The Book Bag: Poetic Voices.

This feature aims to platform and showcase exemplary work from writers I admire across the poetic landscape and runs concurrently with the regular weekly episodes of The Book Bag where I’ll still be sharing thoughts on pamphlets or collections I’ve read through the week.

This month, I am thrilled to announce that our Poetic Voice this month is the prize-winning, super-talented, Carson Wolfe.

Carson Wolfe is a Mancunian poet and Grand Prize Winner of The Disquiet Literary Program 2024. They will soon graduate with an MFA from The Manchester Writing School, and are currently finishing their first novel. Their poetry has appeared with Poetry Magazine, The Rumpus, The Common, and Rattle. Their new chapbook Coin Laundry at Midnight is forthcoming with Button Poetry in spring 2026. 

www.carsonwolfe.co.uk

@vincentvanbutch

I first read Carson’s work in The North and Northern Gravy and was blown away by their work, then I read more and more. Fast forward to now and I am so happy that Carson accepted my invitation.

I’ll be sharing a few pieces from Carson over the month. Kicking off with ‘While Wishing She Was Dancing To Kate Bush’ originally published in the Best New Poets Anthology 2024.

A little later than planned, here’s poem 2 from the exceptional Carson Wolfe. First appearing in POETRY Magazine July/August 2025, this is SILICON VALLEY, IN THE BACKSEAT OF A TESLA.

Here is the 3rd poem from Carson. Originally published in The Baltimore Review, this is ‘Strange Baby’.

STRANGE BABY

He locked his doors—
the guy who braked

at my outstretched thumb. 
His name was Froggy. He drove 

in the opposite direction
to Georgetown, 

is the temperature ok? 
he turned the radio dial, 

what music do you like? 
A white crab 

pearled in his headlights, 
he got out, knelt 

on its shell. I could have 
run at that point, 

but his car was air 
conditioned, I had nowhere 

to be. He pulled a rope 
from his back pocket, turned  

its pincers into its own face 
and bound them there. 

I’ll cook you dinner, he said, 
and lumped the salted moon 

onto my lap. It squirmed 
against my thighs, 

this strange baby, looking 
to me for a mother.

I don’t eat animals, I said. 
It’s not an animal, he drove 

on in the stink of rockpool 
fizz. The island only has 

one road, I told myself 
we’d loop round eventually. 

He pulled into a hotel, 
abandoned mid-construction. 

Bare cement, windows gaping 
like mouths. I wouldn’t touch 

the crab, was grateful 
when he tossed it

in the back. I stepped out 
into the evening shrill 

of insects. Dizzied 
by the delicate racket 

of wings rubbed together
—he took out a knife 

and cleared a path for me 
to reach a secret beach. 

The sunset is pretty, like you, 
he said. Like me? I smiled.

Like you, he said, 
down on one knee.

To pre-order Carson’s forthcoming chapbook, you can do so here. I can’t wait for its release. An early birthday present to me from me!

Paul

The Book Bag: Poetic Voices – June 2025

Welcome to the first instalment of a new feature as part of The Book Bag. Poetic Voices will feature a different poet every month. This feature aims to platform and showcase exemplary work from writers I admire across the poetic landscape and will run concurrently with the regular weekly episodes of The Book Bag where I’ll still be sharing thoughts on books I’ve read in the week.

So without further ado, our featured Poetic Voice for June 2025 is Matthew M.C. Smith. A man who does so much for poets across the world and an incredible poet in his own right. If you’ve read The Keeper Of Aeons Book Bag article, you’ll know I’m a big fan.

Matthew M. C. Smith is a writer from the east of Swansea, the industrial heartland of the city.  He has a PhD on Robert Graves and Celticism. He is widely published and his work can be read in Poetry Wales, Arachne Press, These Pages Sing, The Gower Society Journal, Atrium Poetry and Acropolis Journal. Matthew is writing his own novel of The Odyssey, hoping to complete a final draft in 2025. He is campaigning for the return of the “Welsh Elgin Marbles” – the Red Lady of Paviland – back to Swansea from Oxford. 

Matthew loves everything Star Wars, Welsh Rugby, collecting signed poetry books and 60s/ 70s vinyl. He can be found on long time-travelling walks in Gower and the Welsh hills and coastline. 

His last poetry collection was The Keeper of Aeons (Broken Spine, 2022). In 2024, he read with Owen Sheers and Matthew Hollis.

Matthew edits Black Bough, the Silver Branch project and TopTweetTuesday. He is on Twitter, Bluesky, Facebook, Insta/ Threads.

Not a Mirror

and its flat, flipped impression,
not the containing frame. 
Not the predictable form of self,
presented, out there,
thinned in depth.

She wants to hold her hologram,
through passages of gold
out into the uncaring city:
through mindless mountains,
the ocean's unthinking, frayed edge,
bearing its fierce blue flicker
like a bust of Nefertiti,
unflipped, uncontained,
filling heart-sized height and depth.

She wants to hold its crackle
like an offering to be placed
at the sanctuary 
of a future self.
Green Man 

Mist drifts through webs, 
rain-flecked. 

From the house, 
from the ivy way, 
all paths spiral, shadowed 
by green ruins, 
unravelled to the sky 
and beyond, 
the forest is ghost. 

Walk through the night, 
walk to your rest, kneel 
under the beat moon 
and the pitiless stars
and look upon
the Green Man, 
moss-cheeked, 
ivy-bearded, 
who stares, 
deathless, 
through you.

Today, I’m sharing the following poignant and important piece by Matthew. 

Colouring the Birds of Gaza

In a gallery in Swansea
children are colouring in paper birds,
each one a symbol
of a child killed in Gaza.

Crayons are clenched, 
tiny fists of protest,
pencils propped 
in the pressing triangle of 
fingers and thumb.

Ask them,
the children always know the truth.

It's about power.
Violence breeds hatred.
No-one can ever win.
Everyone should be free.
Stop the War.

This is not the poem. This is almost 
nothing. Look, instead at the paper birds,
the children fixing wings on the glass
that crinkle in the sunlight.

I am delighted to share another poem from Matthew MC Smith today (30/06/2025).

Your Sundown is Electric
 
Tonight, I will imagine one sky
and your hand reaching up,
your fingers touching the shimmer
with whatever’s left in you.
 
You give the remains
of your palette’s freedom, 
watching it trail
through the sky,
like a comet’s
sinking tail.
 
Your heart is as long as the earth,
it could be forever, it cannot go –
a shock of joy before the low hum
of earth things 
and the stars’ iron wheel,
so distant from the wild streak of your wide eyes,
the intake of your breath.
 
Tonight, I will imagine one sky
and that you are that outstretched finger,
as you sit on that step, in a hallway
flooded by light,
looking upwards,
 
your sundown is electric.


Thanks for reading, keep up with my socials to find out when the next poem goes live. Username is @paulwritespoems on Bluesky, Instagram, Threads, Facebook and X. You can also sign up to receive updates direct to your inbox when a new post goes live. Currently there is a delay in July’s Poetic Voice going live.

Take it easy and stay poetic.

Paul